


A Matching Set

by Koren M (CyberMathWitch)



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Language, Violence, assassinations, can be read as either straight gen or pre-ship, it's all in the eyes, no really Clint's an assassin, pre-SHIELD Natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberMathWitch/pseuds/Koren%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Ashen_Key's prompt: <i>Natasha was not the first Red Room girl (former or otherwise) Clint had been assigned to kill, but she was the last.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matching Set

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashen_key](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashen_key/gifts).



The first one was a blonde. She had the washed out features of a natural blonde, that pale, pale skin and brows, and light blue eyes (empty, empty eyes) - the combination made her look insubstantial and wraith like. He half expected her to dissolve into a nothingness when his arrow pierced her heart.

The bright red flower that bloomed over her very real chest through her very real clothes was a dramatic contrast, but he couldn't help but think that red really wasn't her color.

*****

The second was a brunette. Her hair was ruthlessly short, polished, and a brown that was just this side of black. Her features were sharp and edgy - her look was more dramatic than pretty. When he finally got a look at her without sunglasses on he saw that her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and it was a very disturbing effect because they seemed too deep to be so empty.

Just like the blonde, they were empty, although when he'd seen her at the cocktail party the night before she'd had someone else's life in them. 

His arrow slid neatly through her throat and the only sound was the soft brush of her body sliding down the stone wall to lie puddled in the rain. Her clothes were black and the street was black and he couldn't see the blood for the shadows.

*****

When Coulson gave him the file, he was amused by the idea of a matched set. The single blurry satellite photo showed a three-quarter view from the back but did a good job of highlighting her deep red hair. He was confident (Phil would say "cocky") and looking forward to the mission. They were a challege, these girls - far more fun than most of the targets he was supposed to hunt down. 

He spent the plane ride to Venice trying to guess what her eye color would be - his favorite changed by the hour, and by the time they touched down he was hoping for green, just for the contrast.

He expected that whatever color, they would have the same dead look to them all the others had. In a more fanciful moment brought about by too little sleep on a stakeout in Dubai he'd wondered if he was bringing their bodies in line with their minds. After all, by the time he shot them they'd been dead for years.

*****

She's standing over three bodies in a chapel as he lines her up in the crosshairs. He's trying to decide between the throat or the heart when she looks up, straight at where he's perched across the street and through a broken window. She looks directly at him and it feels like she's actually seeing him through the sight. It's diconcerting as fuck and her eyes _are_ green.

But they're not dead.


End file.
